Just Friends?
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Garcia helps out an injured Morgan, and finds out more about their relationship. As usual, I don't own anything.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Here comes a new story, with some fluff... because my Harlie asked for it. Love you, sweetheart. Thanks for being my friend... Sweet and sexy, with a bit of romantic angst..._

**Chapter 1**

_Tick, tick, tick..._

Penelope decided at that moment she needed to throw away the little Hello Kitty alarm clock she had in her office. It was a gift from her niece Rachel, and she hated to throw any gift away. However, desperate situations called for desperate measures. Friday evenings, making her look at the clock numerous times and growl, was a desperate situation.

"Come on," she groused, looking at the bottom right hand corner of her monitor. It was stagnant at 4:58, too.

She needed to think positively. In two minutes, she had a date with a tub full of bubbles and a bottle of good California Pinot Grigio. She would finish the wine, savoring every drop, while she soaked in strawberry scented bubbles. After drying off in a thick and thirsty towel, she would head to her bed with crisp cotton sheets she just changed this morning in preparation. She would down turn the covers, crawl in naked, and fantasize about the perfect man.

After her relatively painless breakup from Kevin two months ago, she made this her regular ritual, and she enjoyed it. She used to look forward to sex with Kevin every other Wednesday, sort of; now she _really_ looked forward to sex with herself on Friday nights. At least this way, she was guaranteed to climax, and she didn't have to go down on anyone for it, either.

4:59.

She wondered what she would fantasize about tonight. In the beginning, she would fantasize about random features. Like feet. Big feet, much bigger than her own size nines. Kevin's feet were size nine, too, albeit the male equivalent. She used to think that was kind of cute they had the same number.

"Really?" Prentiss had responded when she'd told her and wrinkled her nose. "Those are kind of small...and you know what they say about men and their feet size..."

Pen had scoffed. "That's a wives' tale."

"Oh, no," Emily had replied. "They're on to something there."

Penelope looked over at JJ, who'd just laughed and shrugged, putting her hands up in a _I don't know _gesture.

"Mine are size twelve."

All three women had turned to look at Reid in surprise.

He'd just smirked and blushed at the same time.

Anyway, that didn't really matter. She thought Kevin's _equipment_ was the right size. It had done the job it was supposed to do, she'd been pleased.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder...

It must've been bothering her more than she thought, because it was the first thing she'd fantasized about. After that, it was long, tapered fingers, muscular chests, tight butts, more kissable lips. It was shallow, but it was a fantasy. She was a big girl, no reason to berate herself for what she'd dreamed about.

5:00.

"Quittin' time!" she exclaimed, standing up and giggling.

"What are you laughing about, sweetheart?"

Penelope turned to see Derek leaning against her door frame. He had a sling on his arm; he'd been shot in the shoulder recently during field work. He'd torn a few muscles, and was out of commission for a few weeks. He was now doing desk duty, which he'd told her he hated.

"Just excited to be going home." She slid her purse on her shoulder. "I got a date."

He arched a brow. "A date? With who?"

"With myself, _mon cher_," she replied, tapping his nose. She rifled through her purse for her keys. "And what lucky woman gets the pleasure of Derek Morgan this evening?"

"Well... I was hoping you, but I can't compete with the date you have lined up." He smiled, a slow, sexy smile that made her heart flutter. "That one is a keeper, Garcia, in case no one told you."

Penelope grinned. He was so much more flirty, so much more fun now that she was single again. When she'd told him two weeks ago that Kevin was history, she'd noticed Derek had a hard time masking the glee he felt. He had never liked Kevin, although she couldn't quite figure out why.

She'd asked him one time. "What is it you have against Kevin?"

"Other than he's a dweeb?"

She had scowled at him. "Not something dumb like that. I know jocks and geeks do not get along in general- besides you and me, we get along-"

"You are not a geek," he'd interrupted.

"Yes, I am," she'd replied. "That is why Kevin and I make such a perfect pair."

Derek had snorted, then excused himself to the bathroom.

She never did get an answer from him. She still wondered what his problem was. She glanced over at him.

Seeing his handsome, hopeful face waiting for an answer from her, she sighed and responded, "I _suppose_ I could cancel my plans and hang with you...but only because you are an invalid, and I feel sorry for you."

"Oh," he said, giving her a half smile. "That's the only reason to spend a Friday night with me, huh?"

"Mmm hmm," she answered, hiding her grin. She used to spend a lot of Friday nights with him, before she had Kevin. Having a boyfriend kind of dampened a friendship with another man.

"Well, then I should go thank the bastard who shot me, if I get to spend more time with you." He pushed against the door and stood, wincing when he moved his shoulder the wrong way.

"Morgan, be careful," she said, coming over to his side and offering her help.

He grinned at her sheepishly. "Damn thing. I keep forgetting my restrictions."

She noticed he was sweating a little bit. It was his first week back to work; he was probably tired and sore. "Hot Stuff, we don't need to go do anything."

"No," he answered quickly, reaching out and wincing again. "Please. I want to hang out."

Frowning at him, she asked, "When did you last take your pain meds?"

"Twelve."

She continued to scowl.

He sighed heavily. "Okay. Twelve midnight."

"Derek!"

"I don't like taking them at work," he retorted defensively. "Makes me feel funky."

"I bet you didn't even bring them to work," she accused.

From his facial expression, she could tell he was guilty as charged.

Sighing, she shook her head and said, "Come on, angel fish. I'm heading to your house to make you dinner, medicate you, and put you to bed."

"Aw, P, I'm sorry."

"Shh," she said, putting her fingertips on his lips. "I want to. No excuses. Let's go."

"Yes, ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews! This is really kind of a romp of a story... Now, onto the next installment..._

It was a short drive to Derek's home. He hated a long commute, so he lived only a few miles from BAU headquarters. It was one of the reasons the team met at his house a lot after work for drinks, cookouts, bitch sessions…other gatherings like that.

The other main reason was his basement. Morgan had a party palace in his basement. Big screen televisions- two of them- were the basis of one wall. The best blu-ray players, surround sound stereo, Wii, a pinball machine, a full bar, a ping pong table, and a patio that lead out to a hot tub. There were comfy couches; one, Penelope's favorite, was futon-style that reclined into a bed with the touch of a handle. Tons of beanbag chairs and pillows, too.

Because he worked so hard, he believed seriously he should play hard, too. Being a single, thirty-something guy, he had nothing else to spend his money on. He had parties a lot; a great portion of the FBI was invited when he did. He even told Penelope to bring Kevin, although he disliked him. Everyone loved his recreation room and the parties that happened there. Except for one person.

Kevin went to one party three months before they broke up, and refused to go to another one, regardless of how many times Penelope had begged.

"That is a sinful, nasty, hedonistic place," he'd said, curling his upper lip in disgust. "I feel like I am at risk of contracting venereal disease whenever I walk in there."

"It isn't that bad," she'd murmured.

"Penelope. He was in the hot tub with six women. _Six_. He may send home one or two, but he is going to make use of that…that...pleasure pit with the rest!" Kevin scoffed, his face turning red. "Reclining beds everywhere. He is just missing a pole!"

Penelope had told Derek about Kevin, especially the last part about the pole.

He'd burst out laughing. "I gotta get me one of those!"

As they walked into the house, she slid her shoes off onto the mat.

She saw Derek trying to toe his shoes off. That wasn't going to happen, they were tied and he needed to untie them. Obviously, he'd overdone it at work today; he couldn't even bend at the moment.

Shaking her head, she knelt before him, and leaned forward towards his feet. "Here, let me."

He inhaled sharply and muttered something she couldn't tell, then said, "No, baby, I got it."

Working on the laces, she said, "Don't be silly. Now lift."

As she pulled off the first shoe, she noticed how huge it was. The thing was a damned boat! She snuck a peek at the tag. Size thirteen.

She glanced up at him, ready to make some comment about his big feet, and ended up eye level with his crotch... _Whoa, Nellie! _

Apparently, what Prentiss said about the shoe size correlation was correct.

Blushing just a little, she went back to the other shoe and fumbled with the laces, then pulled that one off. She sat back on her haunches and smiled up at him. "All done."

Lowering his hand, he cupped her cheek. His eyes were so warm, tender. "Thanks, sweetheart."

For a moment, she just stared up at him, feeling a tingling from where his hand was touching her, and he was giving her a different sort of look, too.

Suddenly, he dropped his hand and took a step backward. "Hey…head on downstairs…I'm going up to get my medicine. I'll meet you down there."

Derek's house was a split level. She watched as he reached the wrong hand to the rail, and winced, then shook his head and trotted up the rest of the stairs unassisted.

She started down the stairs. When she opened the door, she saw the pole in the corner of the room where his makeshift dance floor was. Her jaw dropped, then she closed it, then it dropped again.

"Oh, good Lord," she groaned. That was tacky, and it gave Kevin credence for thinking it was a pleasure palace.

"Like the addition?" Derek said, coming up behind her. He was carrying a bottle of water in his good hand. He handed it to her.

She opened the bottle for him and took a sip while he put two painkillers in his mouth. "Your resale value just went way, way down with that, love bug."

He reached for the bottle back, took a big swig of water, and tilted his head back, swallowing the pills. He shuddered, which wasn't a surprise for her; he was a big baby whenever he was sick and hated taking any medicine.

Then he smirked again and answered, "Not if I sell this house to a sexy person."

She couldn't help it- Against her better judgment, she giggled.

As she looked over at the pole, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to do one of those stripper twirls. She'd always wanted to spin around a pole like that; it was so naughty, she knew it would be fun.

"So," he said, interrupting her thoughts. He was over by the blu-ray player. "What do you want to watch? _Iron Man_? _Bourne_?" He grinned and held up the last one, "_Chocolat_?"

Her mouth dropped open in surprise again. It was her favorite movie, one she forced him to watch with her years ago. "_Chocolat_?"

"Yep. Got it for you," he said, then added, "if I could ever get you over here again."

She felt kind of horrible about that. It was true; they used to spend hours together,watching flicks, before Kevin came into the picture. She kind of let that die away, once she got a love interest in her life. Kevin didn't like Derek, and vise versa, and she was so wrapped up in Kevin...

Actually, there was no _kind of _about it. She did drop the ball on their friendship. Derek never did; he dated tons of women before she dated Kevin, and he still made time for her. Well, she was never going to do that again, regardless of whom the man was.

Smiling, she wandered over and stood in front of him. "Awww, sweetheart! You bought Johnny Depp to share with me in the pleasure dome?"

He crinkled his nose. "Lord, woman. Don't put it that way. Yeesh!"

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Really, it was a very sweet thing to do."

"You're welcome." He put his water on the end table and sat down, then stretched out his good arm. "Let's watch."

"No, honey," she said. "You're the injured one. You pick the movie."

He grinned. "I pick _Chocolat_. Besides, you being here has me feeling one hundred percent again."

"You are too good to me, Derek Morgan," she said, sitting next to him.

Gently, just like old times, she laid her head on his shoulder. She heard him sigh, and together they watched the sweet movie unfold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks. Having such fun with this! And Emzy?... oh emzypemzy... here is where your review hit the nail on the head!_

About half the way through the movie, Derek asked, "So… what would your date have entailed if I hadn't shown up?" He grinned and added, "Besides _Chocolat_?"

He was watching her intently, so he caught her quick blush, no matter how she tried to hide it. Derek bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking. That little minx, so _that's_ what she did in her alone time!

"Actually," she replied. "_Chocolat_ wouldn't be on the list. A bottle of Pinot Grigio and a warm bubble bath would be instead."

"Really?"

She nodded against his shoulder, still watching the movie. "No thinking involved. Just pure relaxation."

"Hang on," he said, pushing himself to his feet. He wandered over to his bar and held up a bottle. "Is Johannesburg Riesling okay?"

"Sure," she replied, hitting pause on the remote as he wandered back with the bottle and a corkscrew dangling from his fingers. "Let me help you."

She uncorked the bottle, then stood and got two glasses. She poured a glass for herself, then one for him. She took a sip, then closed her eyes and groaned in appreciation.

For the second time tonight, Derek felt himself growing aroused. The first time, she was kneeling in front of him, and he couldn't stop thinking about her gorgeous red lips. He'd always loved her lips, pouty and full, they were completely wasted on an idiot like Lynch. He highly doubted Lynch had any idea what those lips could do.

Derek knew. He had no trouble at all imagining those lips wrapping around a lollypop, a popsicle…he'd seen it enough over the years. So much so, he'd fantasized about them, brushing against his skin, light feathery kisses, before they wrapped around-

"Derek. Aren't you going to sit?" she asked, looking up at him.

He quickly sat as he colored just a little bit.

About three more glasses of wine, and twenty five more minutes of movie, Derek was still thinking. He was feeling loopy, far more than he normally felt with wine. He had a good buzz going.

It also made him curious. "Penelope?"

"Hmmm?"

"You still want that bubble bath?"

She looked up at him, tilting her head to the right in a questioning gesture. "I'll take one when I get home tonight."

"Why not now?" he asked. "With me."

She gave him the look. "Derek-"

"No, I got the hot tub; that's like a big bubble bath." He grinned, and held her hand, kissing the palm.

"Morgan, I don't have a suit," she whined.

"Come on, sweetness. I bet it'll feel good against my shoulder." He knew it was a cheap ploy, but he thought it would be worth it!

She grumbled, "Okay, but I still don't have a suit."

"I got extras. Come on," he said, shutting the rest of _Chocolat _off and standing up.

Grumbling, she stood up and followed him to the mudroom off the back patio. He opened a box that was filled with assorted swimsuits and swim trunks. She wondered where he accumulated all of those, then stopped thinking about it. She didn't want to think she was wearing the suit of some hoochy momma Morgan talked into getting naked in his tub.

Grabbing his suit, he announced, "I'm going to the laundry room to change. You can have the bathroom."

"Okay," she said, fishing through the box. There were no one piece suits to be had. Each one was a bikini, all in rather tiny sizes. Towards the bottom, she found a top that was almost the right size, and a pair of swim shorts that she could use. She pulled them on, looked in the mirror and cringed. The top was hot pink, the bottoms olive green, and neither of them fit well.

"Ready?" he asked from the hallway.

Sighing, she stepped out. "Don't laugh."

Derek watched as she made it around the corner. Laugh? She had to be kidding! She was all legs and tits; there was nothing, absolutely _nothing_, to laugh at. He had to tear himself away from looking at her breasts; those fantastic things were nearly overflowing that top of hers, and he wanted to sink between them and never crawl back out.

For sanity's sake, he looked down at her legs. He'd never had a chance to really see her legs before. She always wore skirts, ones that were about knee length and so colorful, that was what he noticed when he looked. Now, standing there in a drab bottom, he couldn't help but stare. From her pink painted toenails, to her slender calves and plump thighs, she was about the closest thing to perfection a man like him could ever want.

"God, stop staring at my thunder thighs," she growled, "or I am turning around and going home."

_Thunder thighs_? She could've knocked him over with a feather. Derek never understood women. Why did they always think a man wanted hard legs that matched his own? Very few men he knew liked skinny legs. Curvy, tightly packed, with a little cushion on the inner thighs… that was the ideal, and that was what his Baby Girl had.

However, he'd learned, he couldn't tell a woman that from his sisters. They'd say, "Derek, do I look fat?" He'd respond in the negative, because they didn't ninety-nine percent of the time. The only time he could remember one of his family looking remotely fat was when his sister Sarah was pregnant; she gained ninety pounds with baby Gavin. He'd lied and said she didn't look fat, although she really did...kind of. Albeit, she was pregnant, so it was mostly baby. Woman was an absolute parade float, a complete circle and very emotional. Wisely, he'd kept quiet and earned Godfather status in the end.

So, he looked away, although he really wanted to ask her to turn around and pirouette slowly, so he could check out her ass. He had a feeling it would be perfection, if it matched the rest of what he was seeing. Derek was a typical t and a man, and was unapologetic about it. He loved curves, ample curves he could sink his hands into; he felt he should have them. He knew the women he dated liked hard chests and sculpted stomachs; he didn't fault them for wanting that, either.

Derek frowned. He wasn't sure if he was Penelope's type. She'd teased him about it for years about him being her _sculpted god of chocolate_, but when she had the choice, she went for the Stay-Puft® marshmallow man instead.

"I'll help you in," he said, clearing his throat so his voice sounded normal. He reached his good hand out, and she took it, walking up the stairs in front of him.

Derek bit back a groan. Yep. Perfect butt, too.

Once waist deep in water, she turned and smiled at him. "Maybe I should help you in?"

He snorted, took a step, then nearly tipped over. He was far loopier than he thought. She was there in a second with her arm extended. To his mortification, he took it, and walked into the tub, standing right next to her.

She sat down quickly while he eased into it. He could jump into cold water, no problem whatsoever, but hot water took him awhile. He was already hot most of the time, this just added fuel to the fire. Once he was used to it, he loved it.

They sat next to each other, relaxing, their heads leaned back against the edge. Pen sat in front of one of the jets, letting it pound against her low back. Derek sat in between a couple of them, just letting the circulating water soothe him.

After awhile, he asked a question. "What's next on your date night?"

She was laying back, her eyes closed. She opened one eye and answered, "That part you don't want to do."

"Try me," he said.

"It's silly."

"Tell you what," he said with a grin. "I'll make your alone date night perfect tonight, and you can come over tomorrow and make mine perfect. How's that?"

She smiled and nodded. "Okay. You asked for it then, Mr. Pushy."

He grinned. "I aim to please."

Raising her chin, she said, "I usually lie in bed and fantasize about the perfect man-"

"Nice that you think of me," he interrupted with a leer. She whacked his good arm, and he groaned, "Hey, be careful."

She grinned, too, and they were quiet, until he asked another question. "So, who is the perfect man, according to you? Who do you fantasize about?"

She looked thoughtfully at him, then answered honestly. "Really, it's not one particular person. It is certain parts-"

"Oh, that," he said with a wicked grin.

"No," she said, blushing. "Okay, I have thought about that part, but really… it's all sorts of parts."

"Tell me," he said. He had his feet raised on the edge of the seat across from them, and she had hers rested on his calves, because she couldn't reach the other seat.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, and he could tell she started picturing what she wanted in her head. "Long fingers. Not too hairy, and tapered, like a piano players." She turned her head to look at him and opened her eyes. "Hands fascinate me, D. There's something about capable, elegant, strong hands."

She felt his hand reaching for hers under the water. He threaded his long fingers through hers... his long, tapered fingers, with very little hair.

He raised her hand, letting the water drip, before kissing it. "Okay. Hands like Mozart. Got it. Go on, angel."

She closed her eyes again, and smiled. "A strong chest. Not too strong, like Arnold Schwarzenegger in his body building days. A nicely sculpted chest, like he has to work on it, but it doesn't take up his whole day."

"Hmmm," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "What about hair? Always wanted a woman's opinion; chests: hairy or not hairy?"

"A little hair. Not so much I'd get a mouthful if I licked it, but enough that it felt good brushing against me," she replied.

"What else?"

"A belly, arms and legs that say strong, but not overly strong," she breathed, then added quickly, "dusted with hair, too."

"Mmm hmm."

"And lips. Kissable lips. Thick, but not too thick. Fuller on the bottom lip than the top, with a nice little indent at the top of the upper lip. One that begs to be kissed," she said with a happy sigh and a stretch.

Penelope opened her eyes and smiled at him… and noticed his lips were full. Thick, but not too thick. And he had the perfect little indent. He had just a dusting of hair on his chest, arms and legs; his sculpted, but not too sculpted body.

Realizing then exactly what she'd done, exactly what, or rather whom, she'd been fantasizing about for two months, she whispered, "That would be the perfect man."

His voice was thick and the air was charged as he slowly moved towards her. "Got it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews, you are all so sweet to me. Here comes the next chapter, where we get even closer..._

Penelope felt the electric charge between them. It looked very much like Derek was going to kiss her. She was incredibly turned on, more than she'd ever been turned on in her life. However, along with that, she was very nervous and worried. What would happen after this? Would it change anything? How-

He moved to within a foot from her, and she found it hard to think. "Derek," she croaked around the frog that was sitting in her throat.

"What, Baby Girl?" he asked, as he leaned even closer with the quiet stealth of a panther... albeit a panther with an injured paw.

That caused her to think. She blurted out, "Is your shoulder okay?"

"The last thing I am thinking about is my shoulder, P," he replied, his mouth quirking into a sexy half grin of amusement as he began to lean over her further.

She knew she was stalling, but she couldn't help it. She started talking again, whatever she could think of, "Der-"

She didn't get to finish what she was saying. He began to kiss her, and the temperature began to rise exponentially in the hot tub. She was right; those type of lips were absolutely kissable. They were soft, supple yet strong, and sexy. There was heat, so much heat, shared between their mouths, a passing of breath and something much more.

Penelope felt the rising of her nipples, the heat in her stomach and her loins, a tingling fire that erupted. She felt moisture pooling, far more than the water that surrounded her. She was dizzy too, faint, but not from environmental forces. This was all internal, all the passion that stirred between them. She was done thinking, too. She couldn't think if she tried to. All she could do was feel… and want.

She reached her hands up to his shoulders to pull him closer, and he broke the kiss with a hiss of pain.

Paling, she gasped, and was immediately apologetic, "Oh, Derek, I'm so sorry!"

"Never apologize for anything to me," he responded swiftly. "You never have to apologize."

For awhile after that, they simply looked at each other, like they were registering what just happened between them. She could blame it on the alcohol, the warmth of the tub, and the sexy conversation, but she knew that wasn't the truth. She wanted to kiss him, he was her dream man, after all!

And from the look he had, he wanted to kiss her, too.

However, with him being injured, this was probably not the best time to explore any of this. She still felt bad, hurting his shoulder again because she wasn't thinking. They needed to put an end to this.

"Derek... we need to get out of the hot tub," she said regretfully.

He was still staring at her mouth with such longing, like it was killing him to be that far from her. There was an intensity in his look that was off the charts, along with a healthy dose of acute frustration. "Yes, I know."

She stood up and started making her way out of the tub, with Derek following very closely behind, pressed against her, his hand on her shoulder. She thought he was balancing himself. He was weaker than he wanted to admit. She sighed. She was right. It was a very good idea to end this; she needed to take care of him and tamp down her libido.

She turned to look at him, and found him staring at her with such heat, it warmed her even in the chilly air. She was frozen to the spot; a shiver of want rolled through her.

"Well," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I suppose.."

"I need to kiss you goodnight," he murmured, his mouth coming down on hers again.

"Do you want this, P?" he whispered roughly against her ear. "God, I want you, but I'll stop if you tell me to."

"You can kiss me goodnight, again, Derek." She put both hands on the side of his face and looked into his eyes. "As long as you kiss me good morning, too."

**For More of this part of the story...Please see my profile!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews, folks. The FF site is kind of wonky today, isn't it? About this chapter... this is pretty strong... I was really in a mood when I wrote this one!..._

"Morning, princess."

Penelope lifted her head from where it was buried in the pillow. Her hair was draped over her face, but from what she could see through, Derek was giving her a warm, somewhat sexy smirk.

Groaning, she put her head back down. "You said that at three am, remember?"

"Mmm hmm," he said, kissing between her shoulder blades. "I can wish a beautiful princess good morning more than once, right? Especially when she shows me such a good morning."

"This princess wants to be sleeping beauty, angel fish."

"Nope," he responded, pulling the blankets off of her, then slapping her bare butt. "Up and at 'em."

She rolled over, raised herself on her elbows, and growled at him. "You are a dead man, Derek Morgan."

He grinned, tugging on his black boxers and a t-shirt. "I'm hungry. That much physical activity always makes me hungry."

As much as she wanted to deny it, her stomach was empty, too, and she was starving. "You start the coffee, and I'll be in to make the waffles."

"Can do," he said, all chipper, walking out of the room, whistling.

She lay back down for a moment, clapping her arm over her eyes, but smiling. God, he was a disgusting morning person. It was hard not to think he was cute, though, all beautiful brown skin and sparkling white teeth.

A part of her was a little nervous. He didn't kiss her more than just a teasing nip between her shoulders. What he was doing now wasn't anything different from what he did when she used to spend the night as his friend. She didn't think he'd want to forget about two really fantastic, multiply orgasmic rounds of sex, but this was kind of throwing her.

Sighing, she sat up, and started searching through his stuff for something to wear.

* * *

Derek was grinding the beans. He was a strong believer in good coffee, starting with the organic, free trade beans, to the pure spring water, to the French press coffee pot. He never used to be a coffee snob; it used to be Folgers or even Sanka if he had to. He had been a cop; he'd been used to coffee that tasted like it was made from ground cigarette butts and filtered through a dirty sock.

Penelope changed that years ago. It was tradition with him and Penelope to have great coffee. The first time she'd spent the night, she took one sip of his morning brew and turned horribly green.

"No human should consume that," she'd said, throwing the rest in the sink.

"What? It's a good cup of Joe."

Shaking her head sadly, she'd put her hand on his cheeks and said, "Morgan, my lovely lump of luscious chocolate, you deserve better."

Then she'd dragged him to the store and bought all the proper items for him to have a _truly_ good cup of Joe.

He'd been almost ashamed of how much better her coffee was than his. Out of stubbornness and stupidity, he'd drunk the other stuff for awhile, but found himself making the French press more and more often... partially because it reminded him of her, too.

He was pouring the water into the carafe when he heard her behind him.

"Spring water?"

"Of course," he said, turning, and he had to fight his jaw dropping.

Penelope was wearing a pair of his black boxer shorts, a white tank shirt, and tube socks she must've found in his drawers. He could see the dusky pink of her nipples through the thin fabric; he wanted to wet the fabric down immediately and yank aside the little flap in the front of the shorts. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail with a rubber band, rounding out the look.

She smiled sheepishly. "I hope you don't mind..."

"Oh, hell, no," he answered quickly. This time he didn't stop himself from making her pirouette so he could see her backside. He raised his finger in the air, making a small circling gesture. "Turn around."

She did as he bid her to, and he bit back a groan. Damn, her curves filled out his shorts far better than he ever could. Her ass was a thing of beauty. Not too big, like he could rest a drink on it, and not too small, where it was flat. Hers...

"Mmmm, woman," he growled, interrupting his own thoughts because he needed to touch her. He pulled her into his arms, her back to his front.

"Coffee, D," she said, although her voice was husky. He was running his hand over her belly, up to cup a breast. He began to kiss the expanse of neck that was bared. He nipped gently, laving with his tongue, then sucking.

She turned out of his one-armed grasp. "No, no, sweetheart. You're hungry."

"Hungry for you," he said, lunging for her and missing, cursing his injury.

"No," she responded primly, walking to the counter. "You were so hungry, you made me get up..."

He closed his eyes, shook his head and sighed heavily. Dang. "I'll make the coffee."

One delicious pot of coffee and three waffles later, Derek was still staring at her like he wanted to eat her alive. She was completely wrong if she thought he wanted to go back to the way things were. No man alive could pretend the amount of lust he was showing her. He stared so avidly at her breasts her nipples rose, and she had to fight the urge to cross her arms over them.

He reached over the table for her hand, his voice a low timbre that caused more goose pimples to raise on her skin. "Time for dessert."

"Be careful; my fingers are sticky," she warned, as she moved to her feet.

He pulled her forward so she was standing between his legs. Slowly, he raised her hand to his mouth and licked her first fingertip, then sucked it into his mouth.

"Mmmmm," he moaned, beginning to lick the next finger, then nipping the pad with his teeth.

They made love.

They half-lay, half-sat between the table and against the cupboards with ridiculous grins on their faces. She realized then she was laying on his injured shoulder.

"Derek! Your shoulder," she murmured, leaning back and touching him with concern.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "You have a way of making me forget all about my shoulder."

She looked at the stitches and blushed. "I don't know if that is a good thing."

He smiled, and said softly, "Believe me, baby... it's a very good thing."

**For More of this part of the story...Please see my profile!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN: To all my loyal reaaders: I am so sorry I am late in updating. I have been rather sick the last couple of days. I'm heading back to bed, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging any longer. Hopefully I'll be back in the game tomorrow..._

After stumbling back to their feet, they started cleaning up the kitchen. It was taking a lot longer than it should have taken. Derek couldn't stop touching her and kissing her. It surprised her a little, although it shouldn't have. Derek was one of the most touchy-feely people she'd ever known. He was always kissing the top of her head, rubbing her shoulders, throwing his arm around her, hugging her…and that was before any of this happened.

"Hot Stuff," she said, as he stood behind her while she had her hands in soapy water. "We're never going to get this cleaned up."

He'd looped his arm around her waist, burying his face in the side of her neck. "Who cares…"

He rubbed his whiskers on her neck, causing her to break out in shivers.

She tossed some bubbles at him. "Behave, mister."

Grumbling, he released her, then swatted her butt quickly. "How am I supposed to concentrate on cleaning when you are dressed like that?"

She'd tugged her boxers back on before standing up. "I don't have any other clothes here." She frowned for a second, not too happy about the next thought. "I guess I am going to have to go home."

"We can wash your dress," he said quickly.

She shook her head. "Dry clean only."

He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Well, I will find you something to wear after we shower. Something you can wear home."

"Okay," she answered.

She'd agree to anything at this point; she felt like staying for the next ten years. She was having such a good time with him, and it wasn't just about the sex. The chatting, the warmth, the easy going feeling of just being with him, the friendship shined through, even with the flares of lust that were always there, lying barely dormant.

After finally finishing the kitchen, they headed to his bedroom again and the shower. She was still sticky and looking forward to getting clean. She entered his bathroom and started undressing, while he was in his closet, looking for clothes for her.

She climbed in and turned on the water, the first shock of cold making her jump, then the warmth washed over her. She wasn't surprised that there wasn't any shampoo; Derek didn't have hair, after all. Luckily, her hair wasn't that dirty yet. She moved her ponytail up on her head, keeping it out of the water.

Looking around, she found a bottle of body wash. She opened it and took a sniff, closing her eyes. It smelled like Derek, woodsy and spicy. She couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was…

"Sandalwood," he remarked, climbing into the shower with her.

They made love.

She leaned forward and shut off the water. "At this pace, we really are going to kill each other."

"After six years of teasing, I think we are setting the perfect pace." He stepped out and reached for the towel, wincing.

She grabbed the towel and started drying him, his back, his butt, his legs. She murmured from behind him, "Six years?"

He looked over his shoulder as she was drying his thighs, and gave her his lopsided grin. "Yeah. That's how long I've been picturing us doing this. How about you?"

She blushed. She hadn't really thought about it, not seriously. Then she ran her fantasy man that she'd been dreaming about in her head. It was Derek in every way.

Come to think of it, she'd been dreaming of the Derek sort for a long time. She's always wanted a strong, sexy hero, but dated geeky, nerdy individuals she thought were like herself. She never thought she quite deserved the Derek-type. She was shooting above her station.

She snickered. That would be just like her to do that: to want Superman, but date Jimmy Olsen instead!

"How long have I been dreaming about this?" She smiled up at him then, and answered. "My whole life, baby."

**For More of this part of the story...Please see my profile!**


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: Thank you, dear readers and reviewers, for putting up with my erratic posting lately. I am finally starting to feel better (Yay! Just in time for the CM premier tonight!) Thanks for the reviews and the well wishes, you are all so wonderful to me. Love, Kricket_

**Chapter 7**

"I'm hungry."

Penelope expected those words from Derek. She was drying her legs, while he had his towel draped around his shoulders. He was strutting around naked again. The man should really join a nudist colony. He was so confident in his nakedness.

Penelope, on the other hand, was trying to find the best position to look the leanest, draping her towel to hide her lumps and bumps. She had cellulite, and a little bit of back bacon, and—

"Woman."

She looked up at him, questioningly. "What?"

His mouth was curved in a lopsided smirk. "Why are you standing like that?"

She began to blush. "Like what?"

"Like you are tying to hide behind that towel?" he asked, walking towards her.

"Because I am trying to hide behind that towel," she mumbled, answering honestly. She cast her eyes downward and knew she was blushing even brighter.

Derek stood in front of her, putting his finger under her chin. Tipping her chin up to make her meet his eyes, he looked at her questioningly, but didn't say a word.

Angry at herself for feeling that way, and a little at him for being so perfect, showing off so much, she huffed her response. "Not every one is designed like you, Derek Morgan. You may be comfortable parading naked for the masses, but I'm not."

"No, sweetheart," he said softly. "Not the masses… just you."

His expression was so tender, his eyes so warm and gentle, she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes and was galled at her own pettiness. She knew he meant to imply that she should feel comfortable around him, too, but she couldn't. Not about that.

She turned her chin away from him, and swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Well, you're so beautiful and**—"**

Derek jerked her chin in his direction, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Obviously I'm not doing a good enough job showing you how much I want you and how very beautiful I think you are. Come with me."

She followed him into his walk in closet. In the corner, there were three mirrors. He dragged her, still naked except for the towel she was holding up in one hand, and made her stand in front of him in the mirror.

"I helped you fulfill your perfect self date night, right?" He waited for her to nod, then continued. "Do you want to know what my self date night fantasy is?"

She was a little surprised. She'd never expected that Derek would have fantasies he hadn't fulfilled. She met his gaze above hers in the mirror and gave a barely perceptible nod.

He gave a warm, genuine smile. "Good. Since I fulfilled yours, you can help me fulfill mine, okay?"

"Okay," she said, smiling back. "Fair is fair. What is it?"

"Making love, standing, right here."

She giggled. "Oh, ho... that's like watching yourself in a movie."

"Hell, no," he answered swiftly, tugging the towel out of her hands. "What I'm watching... I'm watching _you_."

She was a little taken aback. She wasn't sure she liked being so on display. Then she looked up again and caught her breath when his gaze heated up as he began to slide his hand over her body.

"Watching my woman receiving my touches. From my hand holding her perfect breast I am growing to love more every second I see them, to the quivering of her tummy…"

Penelope watched him in the mirror, observed him as he watched his hand doing the things he was saying. The way he was talking, the way he was moving, it made her feel like a voyeur. Like she was outside of her body, seeing someone else getting the touches. It was turning her on so much, her nipples tightened and she was panting.

Derek wasn't unaffected, either. He was breathing heavier, and she could feel him getting aroused, pushing heavily against the still damp skin of her bottom.

"And mostly, watching here," he growled softly, moving his hand between her legs, "as I slide in and out of her pussy… so wet, so tight…."

She couldn't watch anymore. Her heavy lids slammed shut, and she shuddered as his fingers began to play and stroke. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, absorbing the feelings he was stirring inside her.

"Damn you, Penelope," he rasped against her neck, his mouth devouring her skin in hungry kisses. "Are you a witch or something? I can't get enough of you. I've come until I feel dry and exhausted, and yet, I want you again. I've never...it's never been like this before…"

Penelope couldn't explain it, but she understood, too. She felt like that the whole day and the whole night before with him. It felt good—so good—and so right. She wasn't sure what was driving her, but she knew she needed this right now, and she was going to take it.

And she didn't want to think about the warming in her heart, or what that might mean at the moment, either.

Turning, she looped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him, effectively obliterating all thoughts.

* * *

Saturday day turned into Saturday evening, and then Saturday night, with neither of them making any move to leave. She was wearing the oldest pair pajama style pants that Derek owned. This pair had little Chicago Bears helmets all over them. On top of that, she had his Chicago PD sweatshirt on. He was wearing something similar, except his pants had little Chicago Cubs symbols and an ATF sweatshirt he'd gotten from a friend.

They were playing UNO. Derek was smirking; he was winning by a landslide. He played a mean version of UNO, where they had to draw cards until they could play. She had an absolute mitt of cards, and he had four left in his hand.

"You suck."

"Oh, come now, Baby," he cajoled. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do." Penelope was serious. He sucked.

"Fine," he said, putting down a card. "Draw two."

"You…. you… ass!" she sputtered.

"Be nice," he said, laying down a Skip card.

Suddenly seeing the pattern he was going with, she glared at him, narrowing her eyes. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Draw four, yellow, UNO," he said, and with much flourish and aplomb, he laid down his last card, "Out-o."

She stood and threw her cards down. "You mean son of a—!"

Derek tugged her into his lap. "Now, come on, angel. It's just a game."

She wiggled and stood up. "You lucky creep! I'll never**—"**

"Yes, I am lucky," he cooed, tugging her down again. "I have you."

For a second, she sat stock still, and they were both quiet as the implications of what he'd said hit them both. Her heart sped up just a little bit. Did he mean… Did he… what was this?

She turned to look at him quickly, to see what he was thinking, but couldn't grasp it.

"I do, as my best friend, right?" he asked, smirking again.

She didn't know why her heart ached—it was what she'd expected him to say—but it did. She pushed that feeling aside. Smiling, she kissed his cheek and said, "Always."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews. You guys rock!... and yes, the movie exists..._

After a lot of fun, and a lot of cuddling, it was time for Penelope to head home. She started giving Derek a small kiss, which turned into a long and steamy kiss goodbye. He was smiling, trying to hold onto her with his one good hand.

"Stay," he blurted out.

She glanced up at him and felt her breath hitch in her throat. He looked so lonely all of a sudden, it broke her heart. Still, she couldn't stay. She wasn't prepared at all to stay.

She smiled at him regrettably. "Hot Stuff, I can't. I have laundry and all sorts of other things I have to do."

"We can find-"

"I am not wearing your Zubaz pants to work on Monday," she interrupted, giving him a half grin.

"Alright." He smiled, touching the side of her face with his long fingers. "It's been so long since I've had you here, I don't want to let you go."

She smiled, and her heart panged again a little bit, for two reasons. She could remedy the second one right away; she felt horrible for how she let Kevin waltz in between them. The other, this need to be together in a more intimate way than just friendship, would take a bit longer to figure out.

"Honey, I'm sorry I let my relationship with Kevin stop me from coming over," she began."

"It's ok-"

"No. You've never dumped me for the girls you dated," she said quickly, interrupting him. She needed to apologize. He said she shouldn't, but she needed to for her own sake.

"Baby Girl." He gave her a crooked grin, slightly abashed. "Baby Girl... none of those girls had the staying power of your relationship."

She smiled and patted his cheeks. He was so sweet trying to make her feel better. "Well, sugar, you never have to worry about that again.I promise to make time for you, too, when I get a new boyfriend."

She felt him back away just a bit, drawing his face away from her hands. He stiffened a barely perceptible amount; no one would have noticed unless they were looking closely, like Penelope was. She looked at him, head cocked to the side in curiosity. "Derek? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He gave her a smile, but it lacked some of his usual wattage.

"Okay..." she said, not quite sure of what he said.

"Bye, angel," he replied, then shut the door.

* * *

The next two weeks at work were pretty much the same as they always were. They flirted and had fun with each other, and laughed and joked, but she noticed something crucial was missing.

They didn't touch.

Fridays, she ended up having her usual date with herself, but found that it wasn't anywhere near as fun as her weekend with Derek. She didn't know where he was, and she didn't ask, although she did wonder and worry about him, especially whether someone was taking care of him. She chastised herself for that. Having sex, albeit fantastic, earth shattering sex, did not make you a lover. He wasn't her responsibility, she had no real claims on him, he was free to do what he wished.

And he didn't ask about her either.

Monday and Tuesday came and went of the third week, and she found herself feeling kind of lonely. Although she laughed with Derek, even talked about things, she missed his touching, his warmth. She found herself staring at his mouth, at his tight butt as he walked out of her lair, and remembered every second at his house.

Wednesday, he came in without his sling on, and an enormous smile on his face. "Twenty pounds weight bearing and no more sling."

She grinned. "Good! I'm happy for you."

"Wanna come to my house to celebrate?" he asked, looking at her tentatively. "Friday, maybe?"

"Now you know, cupcake, that is my date night," she said, smiling, "but I will make an exception for you."

He gave her his lopsided grin. "Good. See you then."

"Okay," she said, starting to turn back to her screen.

"P?"

She turned back to look at him. "What?"

He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped himself. "Nothing. See you then."

* * *

Friday night finally came along. He had a perfect plan, as far as she was concerned. Their celebration night consisted of heading to his basement for a movie. They watched their favorite B show, _The Brain That Wouldn't Die_. It was about a handsome and brilliant doctor who was insane. He was experimenting with brain surgery, and wanted to perfect head transplants. The doctor purposefully caused a car accident, keeping his beautiful and gullible nurse's head alive in a tray with some sort of food coloring blood pumping in.

It was terrible, but it was theirs.

Once it was done, they had their usual commentary, while the next movie started.

"This was so awful," Penelope said, munching on some popcorn.

Derek shrugged. "About as realistic as Grey's Anatomy."

She snickered. "I will have to watch to see if McSteamy cuts off McDreamy's head and keeps it alive for transplantation."

Looking through the TV Guide Fall Preview, he pointed to a line, "There it is. _Miraculous head transplantation saves sort of sexy doc_."

She gave him a look. "Sort of sexy?"

"Yeah," he said, tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it. "Dude's got nothin' on me."

She laughed and leaned over. "He doesn't."

"That's why I love you, Baby Girl," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You're my one woman cheering section."

Penelope grinned and leaned into his side. After three weeks away from him, she felt more clear about everything. She was just his friend, and that was that. He fulfilled her fantasy night, and he….Got to fulfill it for her. She wasn't going to make more of it than that.

Two Fridays ago, she was wondering where he was and what he was doing. Not only that, when she pictured her dream man while she was alone in her cotton sheets, he definitely had a face. A very handsome face with dark chocolate eyes and a smile that made her heart beat faster. Now, he had a voice too, saying things like _I can't get enough of you_ and _I want you so much._

She dreamed too that she was helping fulfill his fantasies, and it was so damn good...

She frowned. Being near him, touching him again, clouded things. It was the house; it was too seductive. Derek, the basement...even his popcorn, with _perfect_ melted butter, was pure seduction. She needed to get out of there before she started thinking really stupid thoughts again.

She stood quickly and yawned. "Oh! I guess I am more tired than I thought. I better head home before I drive off the road."

He looked at her, surprised. "But we just started the second movie."

"I don't want to be a road hazard." She turned and started up his stairs, with him following behind her.

"Penelope," he said, as she tried to fasten her right high heel.

"What?" Her fingers fumbled with the buckle. Darn shoe!

"Do you want me as badly as I want you?"

She looked up at him and saw the heat and passion in his eyes, along with a very sexy smile.

"Because I want you so badly, I'm aching with it, sweetheart." He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands.

"Derek, I better-"

"Stay the night," he murmured, lowering his mouth towards hers. "Please."

She was frozen still as she watched him, his beautiful mouth that she'd dreamed about for so many days. "I…"

Any protest that she might have made was swallowed by his kiss, as their bodies wound together and she went up in flames, like kerosene on an open fire.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_AN: Alright folks, I was in a mood writing this one, too. As always, thanks for the reviews. Kricket_

"Morning, angel," Derek said, kissing the side of her neck.

It was, all in all, a _damned_ good night.

She stretched, then rolled over onto her tummy, raising herself up on her forearms to smile at him. "At least you are still in bed this morning. Last time, you were up and out of bed before I was. What gives?"

"I didn't get to sleep right away."

Frowning, she looked at him with concern. How couldn't he have been tired after all that last night? "Why?"

He shrugged. "Insomnia. I get it sometimes."

"Still?" She knew he used to get it years ago. She didn't know it was bothersome yet.

He laughed and cupped her cheek. "Sometimes I think too much."

She kissed the tip of his nose. "Thinking, Derek Morgan, is overrated."

"This... coming from a.. what was that?" He arched a brow, then continued, "Oh yes, _the queen of all knowledge_?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Called myself that, didn't I?"

"Along with many other terrific and true things..."

"Well, thinking isn't good for you, then," she said reasonably.

He shot her a quick smile, then shrugged again. "It's been a lot better the last few years because I work out. With my shoulder, I can't, so it's been worse lately."

She raised up on her hands and knees and crawled up over him, like a pampered kitty. "Poor baby," she murmured, kissing his neck this time. "I am going to have to do a better job tiring you out..."

Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her under him. "You do a fine job, silly girl."

"Hey," she said, squirming, trying to roll him back over. "My turn to be on top again."

"Uh uh, princess." He held both of her hands in one of his and raised it high over her head. "I'm in charge when we're in bed."

"Derek, your shoulder," she said, looking concerned.

He frowned, then let her go, rolling to his side to look at her. "I told you; you make me forget my limitations when I'm with you."

"Me, too," she whispered as she lay on her side. She brought her hand up to cup his cheek and simply said what she felt in her heart. She couldn't help herself. "With you, I feel like I could fly."

She moved forward so slightly and began to kiss him.

One kiss turned to three, four, five, and soon, they made love.

It never failed. There was a magic the moment they started moving together. She wondered if it had something to do with how much teasing and flirting they'd done for all those years together.

Finally doing it after six years was certainly not _anticlimactic_. It was more _multi-climactic_.

She could do this over and over, every weekend, if he felt like it, too. She wasn't sure what his plan was for her, but he sure seemed to like it when she was around. She liked being there. More than she liked being anywhere else on earth. It worried her, how much pleasure she got, not just from the sex, but from spending time with Derek. It felt so right...

This was a place she could lose her heart.

* * *

It was a warm and sunny afternoon. They spent the rest of the day out on the deck, enjoying the sun. She had on a pair of boxers and a thin tank top rolled up so she could tan her belly. She didn't know why she bothered; she was always a ghost, no matter what she did.

"So," she said, continuing a conversation they'd had last weekend. "You said you had a fantasy involving my red lips."

"Mmm hmm," he said. Derek was laying in the Adirondack chair next to her with his shirt off. He was wearing his black sunglasses and a pair of low slung black jean shorts.

She snickered. "Not going to tell me, huh?"

"No...I'm just wondering if you can figure it out." He raised his glasses and grinned at her. "You know, surprise me by doing it."

She sat forward and ran her fingertip on his belly. "Tell me, please."

"Here is a hint," he said. "You, your shiny red heels with the little bows on the toes, and your red lips. Just those three, and bam! Instant hard on."

She thought about it for a moment. She hadn't worn those shoes in months. He remembered those shoes?

"That's all?"

"No, sugar." He leaned closer to her and said, "Most men love red lipstick."

"Really?" she asked, quirking a brow at him.

"Mmm hmm. Wanna know why?"

He was smirking at her now with such a leer, she couldn't speak. She just nodded, quickly.

"It makes a nice print," he said.

"That's all?" she asked. That didn't sound that wicked.

He still smirked at her, then lowered his sunglasses and leaned back. "Figure it out."

"But Der-"

"Figure it out."

She huffed, then leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. She was scowling for a little while longer, until she started to think again, then almost burst out laughing as she did indeed figure it out.

"Derek," she said a moment later.

"Yes, angel?"

She began in a sing song voice, "Since your arm is still healing, we can't do your one fantasy yet."

"No," he grumbled with a sigh. "Twenty pounds max."

"That doesn't mean I can't fulfill the other one..."

She sauntered off into the kitchen, causing Derek to smile even bigger as she walked away.

* * *

Sunday came too quickly again. They stood on the front step kissing, not even bothering with pretending it wasn't what they wanted to do. He kissed her neck, her ear, and said the same word he'd said last time that made her heart skip a beat.

"Stay."

"Sweetheart," she said, kissing his lips this time. "I can't."

"You need a drawer over here," he replied, kissing her neck. "One with a variety of clothes so you-"

"Derek, I can't take over your dresser." She pushed away from his chest, aghast.

She already felt like she'd intruded on his life enough; she'd even invited herself over again next Friday. Judging from the multitude of swimsuits and the amount of condoms he had stashed around his house, he could have any number of women in line for next Friday. He hadn't seen her the last two Fridays; she considered herself lucky to even be on his list!

The man had a stripper pole in his basement, for Pete's sake! That didn't say _forever_, but it did promise a damn good time.

"Yeah, you're right... my bad," he said, holding up his hands and stepping back away from her. "See you tomorrow."

He flashed her a quick smile, then shut the door.

She watched it close, then walked to her car, feeling rather disappointed. She must've been right; he'd given up quickly.

She wasn't really happy about that...

Cursing herself for being contradictory in her thinking, she opened the door, slid in, and drove away.

**For More of this part of the story...Please see my profile!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_AN: Thank you for all the reviews. The fact that you are still reviewing for me when the site is so wonky is a testiment how fantastic you are! Bless your beautiful hides! _

Monday at work, Derek was waiting in the doorway of her office. He was leaning his long frame against the door, holding two cups of coffee.

"Morning, princess," he said cheerfully, stepping aside so she could unlock the door.

She turned the key and opened the door, then took her cup of coffee. "I'll show you a good morning, Hot Stuff."

He shut the door behind her, then put down his cup of coffee. He began to approach her like a tiger stalking its prey. "I was hoping you'd say that."

A second later, he had her pressed against the closed door, and he was kissing her, hard and hot and fast. She'd missed him. He was so delicious, she found herself absolutely ravenous for him. She met him, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, gripping his head in her hands, deepening the kiss.

He shot his tongue deep into her mouth, stroking with velvet touches against hers. He tasted of the coffee he'd had and a touch of mint and chocolate. She pressed up, arching her body into his, trying so hard to get closer.

The desire to turn more aggressive, to do more, to get naked and panting, rose to the forefront. She had to drag herself back to the surface to remember she was at work; this was not somewhere she could just make love to Derek. Regretfully, she pressed against his chest, moving him away.

Raising his head with a sigh of defeat, he smiled down at her. "Damn work."

She grinned back. "I only wish I'd put my coffee cup down…. It was hard being one handed."

He snorted. "Imagine how I've felt the last three weeks."

Nodding her agreement, she answered, "True."

They'd kissed for so long and with such intensity, her glasses had fogged. He took them off of her, wiped the lenses, and put them back on her nose.

"Thanks," she murmured. It was moments like that, the shows of gentleness and caring, that stopped her heart. She wondered if he was even aware when he did it. It was so at odds with the player image he'd carefully cultivated. He'd been doing those little things for years, making her fall for him even more.

He brushed a curl off of her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, looking down at her with those same warm, tender eyes.

"One more for the road," he said, cupping her face and kissing her. He stepped back, then opened the door and left, leaving Penelope even more confused than before.

* * *

Tuesday, Penelope was out with Emily and JJ. It was a usual thing for them; they headed to Tsang's Chinese and Thai for lunch and a girl's gabfest. Pen had her big bowl of Pad Thai with tofu. It was gloriously good, spicy and tangy.

"So… what's new in your life?" Emily asked, her eyebrow raised just slightly, a smirk on her face.

Penelope almost giggled. Prentiss had expressions that were very similar to the expressions Derek had. Kind of like roommates that start to look alike over the years. She pictured those two on a stakeout: sitting in a car for an evening, mobile eyebrows and smirks on their equally gorgeous faces.

"Nothing much," she answered to the leading question.

"Nothing?" JJ asked, her eyes widening.

"No, nothing."

Both women stared at her.

"What?" she asked, laughing, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. "Sheese, you two!"

Penelope knew she was in trouble the moment she saw them. There was no doubt the women were wondering... they both had that knowing look the moment she saw them. As confident and sure as Pen was about herself, she wasn't when it came to relationships. Especially when it was with someone intensely gorgeous.

Last time she dated someone hot, he shot her.

"Garcie, you are glowing. Positively glowing," JJ said while she dipped her egg roll in sweet and sour sauce. "You radiate happiness, like-"

"Like a person who has been well and truly fucked," Prentiss interrupted.

"Emily!" JJ gasped.

Em turned to look at JJ. "Well, it's true! I want to know who it is, 'cause I know Lynch is out of the picture."

"Thank goodness," JJ said, looking like she was ready to make the sign of the cross on herself.

"Hey, I am here, ladies," Penelope said, realizing a second later that was the wrong thing to do. They both stared at her again.

"Cough it up, PG," Emily cajoled. "Who's the stud?"

Penelope turned scarlet in a heartbeat. She couldn't tell Prentiss, of all people. There were some things that were meant to be private, and she wasn't-

Prentiss frowned. "What are you blushing for?"

Recognition hit JJ first, and she looked over at Emily. "Stop pushing, Em."

"Why?" Emily asked. "It's not like she sleeping with Reid or Morg…oh, shit. You are, aren't you?"

"Not Reid," she muttered under her breath.

"Of course not!" Emily answered quickly, as if the thought was absurd. Everyone knew there wasn't the same kind of chemistry with Garcia and _Reid_ as there was with Garica and _Morgan_.

"Really, Morgan isn't that surprising," JJ said, patting Penelope's hand comfortingly. "I always sensed something more between you two."

"Well, congratulations, I guess. Is that what you say when a couple starts going at it?" Prentiss grinned first, then looked almost ill and shuddered. "Gah…I called _Morgan_ a stud!"

"I don't think congratulations are in order," Pen added quickly, feeling even more uncomfortable. "I don't want this to be a big deal. We're not a couple. We're just…"

"Scratching an itch?" JJ offered helpfully, with a cringe worthy look on her face, too.

Penelope cringed herself. That seemed to make what they had sound sleazy and dirty. It didn't feel like that to her. It felt right, and good, and perfect. It felt like heaven in his arms, and by his side. It felt comforting, wonderful, warm. In bed, making love, it felt exhilarating, hot, and steamy.

So much more than scratching an itch.

Still she didn't want to cue them in to any deeper feelings, not when she felt so unsure herself. She was something else, and she turned him on, but she wasn't exactly his type. She hated that she lacked confidence when it came to this sort of thing. Guys like Morgan didn't approach her from across a smoky bar. They never did before. It was hard to accept that the one man she always wanted...really wanted her.

So, with less than total enthusiasm, she answered, "Yeah. Scratching an itch."

"Well that's good," Prentiss remarked, picking up a piece of broccoli in her moo goo gai pan.

"Emily," JJ warned again. She was looking at Penelope, who startled when Em spoke.

"Friends with benefits," Prentiss said, with an agreeable nod. "Smart- you guys fill in each other's calendar when it's empty, and stay satisfied."

Penelope's heart crushed in her chest. She thought it the other day, but hearing it out loud was a completely different thing. Her gut and her head ached, and she felt stinging at the back of her eyes and her nose.

"Yes," she said, trying to keep it light. "Although Derek's calendar is more full than mine."

Prentiss snorted, looking at her food and shoveling in rice. "His would be, the big flirt. I can't imagine him ever being serious. Just the other day- hey!"

JJ dumped over a glass of soda onto Emily's lap.

"You better go to the bathroom and clean that up," JJ snapped at Prentiss, her voice sharp.

At that moment, Emily finally looked up and over at Penelope. It took her a moment, before her face clouded over with concern, and then immediate regret. "Oh, PG. I am so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Emily," she said, forcing a smile. "It nothing serious. It is what it is."

"Garcia…"

"Go," JJ said, shoving Emily out of the booth.

Emily walked away, her head hung low. That broke Penelope's heart just as much as the words that were just said. She knew Emily didn't mean to hurt her; she just couldn't stop talking sometimes, especially about relationships. Emily lacked girlfriends growing up, moving all over the place when she was younger; chatting about relationships and sex was all new to her.

"Penelope," JJ said, concern on her face. "Are you okay?"

"I feel bad for Emily."

"Oh hang Prentiss!" JJ snapped. "I'm talking about _you_."

At the moment, Penelope didn't want to talk about herself, her relationship, anything. She just wanted to go home.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing, JJ," she said, opening her purse. She put a twenty on the table, and then stood. "It is what it is. I am not expecting anything from this. Only a fool would fall in love with Derek Morgan."

As she walked out, she wondered if JJ thought she was looking at a fool.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. You are all so wonderful to me. Each one makes me want to type and type and type...(Ask Naidoo, Harley, and my hubby... it's so totally true! They read a lot of my ramblings!)  
_  
"Hey, sweetness," he said, calling on the phone Thursday morning. He was in the SUV, a moment of quiet, while on the road. Late Wednesday afternoon, they'd received notice they were wheels up; he didn't even get a chance to kiss Penelope goodbye. They'd been working non-stop, and now he and Prentiss had been sent up into the mountains of Idaho to interview a victim.

On the way up, Prentiss had run in to get a cup of coffee for both of them at a gas station, and so he'd dialed the phone, eager to speak to P.

"Hey," she said, sounding sleepy. She stifled a yawn, and asked,"What time is it?"

He smiled, picturing her, cute and sleep rumpled. " Five thirty. I know it's ungodly early for you, but I wanted to talk to you. I'm heading into the mountains, so I probably won't have cell reception the rest of the day."

"Oh, okay." He could hear that she stopped to yawn again. "What's up?"

His voice automatically dropped an octave, and he could feel his cheeks heating as he said, "Nothing, really. I just wanted to wish you good morning."

Every morning since the last weekend, they'd kissed each other a warm good morning. It was a wonderful thing for him, started his day on a damned good note. He knew she smiled the day away, too, he'd seen her at her desk. Except for yesterday, something was off. She was a little standoffish when he kissed her.

She paused for a second, before sighing happily. "You are so sweet sometimes, Derek Morgan. Even if you do call way too early."

He smiled, then sighed. He was still a little worried about yesterday. He decided to ask her. "P, is everything okay?"

She paused again, then answered, "Yeah, Hot Stuff. It's all good."

"Are you sure?" he questioned, wishing he could see her face. "You know you can talk to me, Baby Girl."

"I know, cupcake." Her voice was husky; he heard her clear it. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

"Of course, sweetheart," he said. He could sense the sadness in her voice, and it broke his heart. Something was definitely wrong, but she obviously wasn't going to talk to him about it. Not now. He'd try again later.

When it came to his Baby Girl, he never gave up.

"I'll miss you," she said softly.

He smiled again as his heart skipped a beat. "I'll miss you, too. I better go; Prentiss is back."

"Bye, love bug. Hurry home."

With that, she clicked the phone off.

* * *

Early morning in the mountains was gorgeous. There was mist rising all around the road they were going to travel, and the sun was just coming over the first peak.

"Who were you talking to?" Prentiss asked, handing him a cup of terrible coffee from a convenience store. It was bitter as hell; she knew it, but it was better than nothing.

"Penelope," he said. "Just wishing her a good morning."

She smiled over her cup at him. She was surprised he was so forthcoming with her. She kind of wanted to have a talk with Derek, after she flubbed things around at lunch with Garcia. See if she could set things right. "I talked to PG at lunch about you the other day."

"Really?"

Emily looked over at Morgan. He just smirked like he usually did, not giving anything away, unfortunately. It was common place for him. Prentiss thought sarcastically that getting information from Derek was _easy_...like peeling a turtle.

"Something big going on there?"

Derek glanced at her, then started the truck and began driving. A while later, he surprised her again, and answered, "Might be."

"Oh, that's good." Emily let out a sigh of relief. To say _might be _was huge for Derek. Usually he answered, _Hell, no_, when she asked that question or any question about his love life!

Derek chuckled a little, sounding confused. "What?"

"Well, to hear Garcia tell it, it sounds like a _friends with benefits _sort of thing," Emily replied, testing the water. She wanted to see his response on that, gauge his thinking, before she continued like she did at lunch the other day with the BAU girls.

Unfortunately, he didn't give anything away yet again.

"Is that what she said?" Derek asked awhile later.

"Yes, she did," Emily said. "She made it sound like it was very casual between you two... which, by the way, I am going to say it, I think is a _really_ bad idea."

He didn't say a single word, which frustrated Emily, but she felt she had to continue, for the sake of both Morgan and Garcia.

"She's not that kind of girl, Derek."

Still, he said nothing.

"I know you're both adults, and I know you can make those decisions... but you and Penelope are way too close for something casual. You'd never be able to go back to being just friends," she added a moment later, very softly, "Someone is going to get really hurt..."

She watched him carefully, watched his jaw tighten. He was obviously a little angry, but he needed to hear this. She didn't worry as much about him, Derek was tough and used to fucking around, having a good time, lots of affairs, but PG...she was so vulnerable and soft. He was thinking with his dick, not his head, if he thought they could withstand something like that.

"You're going to lose a friend, and you're going to break her heart." She took a deep breath and finished, "Like I said, someone's going to get hurt... and _you_ don't want to do that to her."

For a long time, he was quiet, saying nothing, that muscle in his cheek still twitching, but there was something else, a slight tightness around his eyes that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

He turned and looked at her. "What in the hell are you staring at?" he snapped.

She cringed, but just a little. Emily was one tough girl. Plus, something about that look bugged her, started making her feel really, really uneasy. "You okay? You look...unhappy."

He answered in a voice that was too calm. "I'm fine."

She sighed again and said, "Morgan, if you're not happy about the situation, she probably isn't, either. You need to talk to her, and-"

"Emily."

She quieted immediately. He rarely called her by her first name, and he never interrupted her or anyone else, usually. "What?"

"Lay off, okay?"

They were quiet the rest of the way up the mountain. She knew it then, exactly what that look was that she couldn't figure out. It was in his voice when he said that last comment. Something he couldn't hide.

Hurt.

She'd made a mistake yet again. Sighing, she couldn't help but think that sometimes it would be better if she kept her big mouth shut. They were silent until they arrived at the scene, and later back at the precinct, neither mentioned a word about it again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, folks. Working our way towards HEA... but first, a few catalysts besides Emily and her big mouth..._

Penelope was sitting in her apartment, waiting for the phone to ring. In particular, waiting for the words _Morgan, Derek _to flash on her caller ID. He always called her when he arrived back home from a case because he knew she worried about him. He was the bodyguard of their relationship, the muscle of the operation, but she was still a protector in her own right, too.

Derek had called Thursday morning, then she heard again from Reid in the afternoon. The case took a horrible turn. There were more bodies found in the area they first went to. What looked like a cut and dry, be home in ten hours, sort of case changed to a never-ending one. Finally, late Friday, around midnight, she got a call from Hotch to do some research on a sleazeball suspect they already had in custody.

It was Saturday, three in the afternoon. She knew they had made the arrests and were wrapping up. She just needed to hear-

Her phone rang and she dashed to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby."

She let out the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. "Derek... how are you doing?"

"I'm okay." She heard him chuckle softly on the other line. "That was a lie, and I don't ever lie to you, baby. I'm barely standing, I'm so damn tired."

"You should be. It was a horrible case."

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly from too much use. "It was tough on all of us."

"Poor baby," she murmured. "Want some soup and sandwiches, then I'll tuck you in?"

"No soup and sandwiches; too tired to eat," he said, and she heard the sound of a car door shutting.

"Where are you right now, Hot Stuff?" she questioned.

"Agent Graves just gave me a ride home. He was at headquarters when we landed. Took me and Rossi home. Damn Rossi; he snored in the car the entire way to my place." He laughed again, but sounded so tired. In fact, he yawned immediately afterward. "Sorry, sugar."

She sighed, her heart aching for him. "Angelfish, I should let you go, so you can get some sleep."

"You're right," he answered. "But I don't want you to go."

"Oh, Derek," she whispered, and again her heart panged. "You sound so tired."

"I really want to see you, P."

The sound of his voice, so soft and pleading, did her in. She knew the case was terrible, she knew he was exhausted, and she knew he just needed to sleep. But she didn't care. She wanted to see him, too, as badly as he sounded like he needed to see her.

"I'll be there soon."

* * *

When she arrived at Derek's house, his front door was unlocked. She took off her shoes and put them next to the door, and took her little overnight bag she had packed with her as she headed up the stairs. She didn't even bother blushing; she knew she was spending the night, and she was tired of heading home in day old panties!

Creeping her way up the stairs, she heard the sound of the shower running. She made her way into his room, tossed her bag on the chair in the corner, then knocked on the bathroom door and announced herself.

"Hot Stuff, I'm here."

"Come on in," he called.

She walked in and the warm steam and scent of Derek's soap wafted to her nostrils. She could see him, but barely, through the glass shower doors.

He slid the door open and popped his head out. "Come closer."

She did, and he leaned out just enough to kiss her, getting her a little wet in the process. She stepped back, and murmured, "Welcome home."

"That's my perfect kind of welcome." He grinned brightly at her, but the dark circles under his eyes took away some of that brilliance.

"Get out of there before you collapse," she said with a giggle.

He held his bar of soap out to her. "Wash my back?"

Shaking her head, she took it. He turned, and she washed the long expanse of his back, his broad shoulders. Slapping his cute, muscular butt, she said, "All done."

"Thanks, honey," he said, reaching for her again.

She dodged him and put the soap away. "Hurry, mister."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, as she shut the glass door again.

* * *

Penelope turned down the sheets on his bed, fluffed his pillow, and shut his curtains so it was dark in the room. She stripped out of her clothes and opened her bag, taking out a light pink, long satin nightgown she had packed. It took her the longest to decide on which nightgown to bring with. She didn't want Derek to think she was going to devour him, she wanted him to sleep, so she didn't pack her black lace babydoll she'd recently bought. She didn't want him to think she didn't care about what she looked like, so she didn't pack her tee shirt nighties she usually wore. Sliding on the form fitting, spaghetti strapped nightgown, she felt she made a good choice.

She undid her hair, letting it flow down her back and over her shoulders. She was finishing brushing it when Derek walked out of the shower. He was naked, which was no big surprise to her, except for the towel around his shoulders.

He stopped and looked at her, then let out a low whistle. "Damn, woman..."

She pointed to the bed sternly. "Derek, get in bed, and no funny business."

Tossing his towel aside, he repeated what he said in the shower, "Yes, ma'am."

Laying her brush back in her bag, she climbed in next to him, laying on his arm. A moment later, he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her close. He ran his hand over the satin, laying on her hip, up to the curve of her breast, then back down. Then he yawned hugely, his eyes watering a bit with the effort.

She leaned up to kiss his lips, but lightly. "You know, I don't go to bed at four in the afternoon for just anyone."

"That's my girl," he murmured. She could feel his muscles relaxing, and his eyes grew even heavier lidded. A moment later, his breathing turned regular, and his eyes closed completely.

Snuggling in closer to his chest, she yawned herself. She hadn't slept the best while he was gone either. She gave him a kiss on the underside of his chin, and whispered, "Yep... your girl."

* * *

It was dark when Penelope opened her eyes. There was no other sound than Derek's even breathing and the warmth of his arm. The urgency to use the bathroom came full force; she slid out carefully from under his arm and headed towards the bathroom.

After washing her hands and taking a sip of water, she headed back towards the bed. It was half past nine; she should probably get up and make something for Derek to eat when he got up in the morning. She wasn't as sleep deprived as he was. Then she'd head back to bed at about midnight.

She noticed Derek had kicked off all the covers and was laying there, sprawled out on his back. The room was chilly and he was naked. She decided to pull at least the sheet up, since she wasn't there to warm him anymore.

Wandering over to his side of the bed, she bent to reach for the sheet...

Before she touched the fabric, Derek's long arm wrapped around her and pulled her into bed on top of him.

They made love.

A moment later, he looked down at her. His eyes were warm, tender. She looked up at him, her heart beating expectantly as he spoke.

"Thank you."

And the warm beating of her heart chilled, despite his scorching heat next to her.

**For More of this part of the story...Please see my profile!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews... Sometimes things make me go, "Whoa!" I am not (Besides Justin Timberlake!) a hip hop aficionado... I got a PM while I was writing this story (I was on this chapter) from Jevans. She said that I should write a song based on Trey Songz "Can't Be Friends."... Out of curiosity, I read the lyrics, and went, "Holy cow! That's my story!"... How is THAT for a "Whoa" moment? :).. Just doing a shout out to Jevans, for thinking of me anyway!... Back to the story... . Now we are getting somewhere! _

Penelope laid there for a long time after he expressed his "gratitude". She heard his heavy breathing slow down to even breaths. She felt the tears prickling the back of her eyes, burning her nose. She hated crying with a passion; she needed to get up and get out of there before she started sobbing like an idiot.

She rolled away from him, but he was too quick. He lassoed her with his long arm again.

"No," he murmured, pulling her close, her back to his front. He wrapped his arms around her, and began to breathe evenly again.

Penelope swallowed the tears in her throat and felt the warmth of his embrace, the heat from his body, and his gentle breath over her cheek, slowly lull her to sleep.

* * *

At around noon, she woke again. Derek had made love to her again in the middle of the night, this time much slower, much more languid. The last time lacked the desperation of the first time. It was a lengthy, slow burn, their bodies stretched out against each other in a full contact, like a long, open kiss. Her orgasm came upon her gently, like luxurious waves lapping against the shore of the ocean.

They'd fallen asleep, still joined intimately, his forearms tucked under her shoulders, holding her close. A long time later, he'd rolled off of her, disposed of the condom, and held her tight again. It was like he couldn't bear being apart from her for more than an inch of distance. She knew how he felt; being near him was paradise.

This was giving her a headache. Her body felt incredible and her head ached. She was so freaking confused. She didn't know how he felt. He made love to her with so much passion and caring. She knew it was love making; there was no doubt anyone could make love like that and not mean it.

Then he'd said _Thank you_.

She'd decided to distance herself, and he pulled her into bed and held her like he couldn't bear to let her go.

But he never said he loved her.

Sighing, she realized she really did need distance. She needed time to think, to sort out her jumbled heart, and refresh her mind. She couldn't do that when he was so near; he overfilled her senses. She was saturated with Derek Morgan here, and that wasn't a good thing in this case.

She moved a little, trying to get up again.

He held her tighter, kissed the side of her neck. "Where're you going?"

"Derek, it's afternoon on Sunday; I need to go."

"I thought you brought a bag this time."

"That was clothes for today," she said regretfully. "I need clothes for tomorrow."

He sighed, then released her. She dressed and he watched every move that she made. When she was fully dressed she turned to look at him.

He was laying there, like a lion sunning himself, with the white sheet tucked around his waist. He gave her a lazy smile. "Come, kiss me goodbye, then."

Her heart panged uncomfortably in her chest. He was doing it again, confusing her. He wanted her to stay, but let her go with minimal fuss. He'd even helped fasten her bra!

She leaned back, putting her hands on both sides of his shoulders, and lowered her mouth to give him a quick kiss.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her a little longer, a little stronger, running his hand down her back. Then he pulled away and slapped her butt. "See you tomorrow, then."

Penelope stood on shaky knees, and walked her confused head and twisted, aching heart out his door.

* * *

Sunday went quickly, and Monday morning arrived, with Penelope's head still aching. It had gotten so bad, she took an aspirin after she woke. The worst part being, after all that thinking, only one thing was more clear to her: she was definitely in love with Derek Morgan.

She didn't mean for it to happen. It was a slow, determined process, but she got there. It was so different than the immediate infatuation she had with Kevin, and different than just feeling overwhelming lust like she had in the beginning for Derek. It wasn't just friendship, either. She went from loving being with him, to never wanting to be apart from him, in what had felt like a hair's breadth of time.

Yet, she knew it was a long time, an accumulation of all the things Derek was to her over the years, added with the tender charm and passion he'd shown her over the last few weeks.

Slowly, he became her everything.

Still, she didn't know exactly how he felt. She hated that. Kevin, when he said he loved her, just came out and said it. _I love you, Penny, dear. _She'd thought she'd felt the same thing when he'd said it, but it paled so much in comparison to what she was feeling now.

Her head was still hurting when she pulled into the coffee shop near the BAU. She was hoping some caffeine would help her headache.

"Hi Penelope," the barista said. She was a frequent customer; the employees knew exactly who she was.

"Hi, Carla."

"The usual?"

Penelope nodded. "With an extra shot of espresso, please."

"Oh," Carla said, giving her a sympathetic nod. "Long night?"

She giggled, which made her head hurt more. "Yeah."

"Penelope?"

Penelope turned to see Winston Rhodes, a tech over in the computer crimes task force. He was a very nice man, and unlike most other male techs she knew, very nice looking.

"Hi, Winston." She made her way over to him while Carla prepared her drink. "How are things over in CCTF?"

"Good," he said, nodding. "How are you doing?"

She noticed that his question was more personal, not related to the BAU. She took it that was because news of her breakup with Kevin reached the other departments. The computer world was very small.

She gave him a cautious smile before continuing. "Good, actually. Keeping busy."

They chatted for awhile, and Penelope enjoyed the conversation. He was really a nice guy; Kevin didn't like him, so she never really got a chance to chat with him before.

"Well, I suppose we should go," she said.

He glanced at his watch. "Goodness! That went fast!"

"It did," she added with a smile.

"Listen, Penelope, before you go," he said with some hesitancy. "The team and I get together Mondays after work, to make the start of the week not as rough. Would you be interested in going with?"

"Thanks," she said, "but it would be awkward. I'm not part of your team."

"No," he said, blushing, "but I'd like you to come as my date."

Her heart took a jump. She wasn't expecting this at all. She liked Winston, he was nice, but her heart was elsewhere occupied.

"I'm sorry, Win, but I'm..."

She stopped herself. What was she? She wasn't taken, she couldn't say that. What was she? She paled as her stomach began to churn.

"Well, in case you change your mind," he said, handing her his number. He looked up at her, then asked quickly, "Penelope, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, turning and walking away from her coffee and a rather stunned looking Winston.

* * *

"Good morning, princess," Derek said as usual, catching her in the hallway as she arrived from the coffee shop. Derek was a morning person and started work at seven most days.

"Morning, Hot Stuff," she said, heading towards her office.

He began to follow her, which was no big surprise to her. Derek always followed her into her office. She wished he wouldn't today; she didn't know how facing him was going to feel.

Penelope put her computer bag in one corner, and her purse on the edge of her desk. Adding to the chaos of her day, her purse tipped over, and the contents spilled haphazardly on the ground.

"Damn it!" she growled, dropping to her knees to pick things up.

Derek was already bending, scooping up things that rolled, flew, or slid closer to him. He picked up a slip of paper.

"What is this?"

Penelope looked up from her hands and knees position on the floor and saw him holding Winston's phone number. He was frowning, giving her a questioning look.

_Shit!_ She thought. She meant to throw it away, but she was surprised in the coffee shop, she didn't have a trash can until she got to the office, and she didn't want to litter. Now, this probably looked bad.

She quickly scrambled to her feet and took it away from him. "It's a phone number to a friend."

He arched his brow at her. "A friend?"

"Well... he asked me out," she said with a blush, looking away. Regardless of how innocent it really was, it was awful to be caught with another man's number! She tried to say she turned him down, but he spoke too quickly instead.

"Are you going to go out with him?"

Penelope's heart seized in her chest. Did he really think she would go with some other man after... after what they'd been doing together? She couldn't picture being out with anyone besides him any more.

He gave her a look, waiting for her answer. He looked placid, like he was asking about lunch. Like it was no big deal.

Suddenly, Emily's comments about the _friends with benefits _came up, and nausea rolled through her. Penelope realized she was wrong, dead wrong. All those things she thought meant more to him, all the things she was hanging her heart on, hoping for... didn't mean diddly to him. She was a casual fuck, someone to use that basement pole, and that was it.

Trying to remain calm, trying desperately to mask her hurt, she looked at him and raised her chin. "I was thinking about it."

"Really?" His voice was flat and neutral, but his eyes darkened just a little bit.

Penelope was far too upset to notice.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She wished he'd leave, more than anything on earth, she wished he'd go.

"Sure. Have fun," he said with a smirk that was no where near friendly.

"I will," she snapped, choking the words out past her rapidly closing throat. She turned towards her computer.

"But Penelope, before you go," he muttered with a growl, reaching over and grabbing her by the waist, hauling her against him.

She gasped and stared at him as she collided with his chest. He was looking at her with such heat and intensity, it made her shiver. Her mouth was agape.

He obviously wasn't feeling so casual after all!

"Before you go out with him... think about this."

And he slammed his mouth down on hers.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews... We're here! Only the epilogue left after this...Remember his thoughts about red lipstick?..._

His mouth was rough, dark, and hard as he kissed her, allowing her no quarter against him. There was so much fire, so much hunger behind the kiss, it startled her. She stood stock still, wrapped in his arms, tight like banded steel around her. Her breath became his, her heart beat at the same cadence.

He thrust his tongue in her mouth, taking possession of hers, stroking against it and causing her to moan. He ran his hands up to her head, threading his fingers in her hair, tugging a little, as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss even more. She arched up against him in helpless response, running her hands up his back to stabilize herself, and hold him.

She felt a deep tremor move through his body when she flattened her palms against him, pressing him even closer. With a quick movement, he backed her against her desk, so that her bottom rested on the edge. He slid his thigh between hers, his hips against hers, as he continued to consume her mouth with licking, biting, smoldering kisses. She leaned on him and the desk, her knees weak and her mind even weaker at the moment.

And then he stepped completely away, removing his mouth, his hands, his thigh in rapid succession. She slumped against the desk and opened her eyes in confusion.

He was glaring at her, barely restrained fury and lust battling for dominance in his smoldering eyes.

"Think about _that_ when you're out with him," he growled, as he stormed out of her office.

Penelope slumped in her chair and brought her fingertips to her mouth, frowning in shock and confusion.

Then slowly, she began to smile.

* * *

Derek had had enough. He wasn't happy, not in the least bit, about the way he acted in Penelope's office. He'd lost it completely. The minute he saw that number, his heart stopped. What Prentiss said about Penelope thinking this was casual reared its head to the surface and he'd lost it.

Because this was anything but casual to Derek.

When she said she was thinking about going out with that other guy, he saw red. No, that was too mild. He didn't just see red; he'd seen multiple shades of crimson, maroon, ruby. Along with that, his stomach clenched and his heart seized.

And it hurt.

He'd given everything he had to give over the past few weeks to her, hoping to change her mind, get her thinking about him as something other than a friend. He saw the way she clenched up and looked nervous when he'd begged her to stay, and when he'd slipped and said she was his.

He wanted her to see for herself that it was right between them. He wanted her to take a chance on them, see him as a lover, not just a friend. He didn't want to force her into loving him.

After today, he wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her, saying _You're mine, damn you! Don't you forget it!_

However, what he wanted to do, and what he should do, didn't always mesh.

If he continued to pressure her, he'd lose her as his friend, and he didn't want to do that. However, he didn't think he could go back to being just friends with her, either. It was a hell of a conundrum.

He thought this would work. Knowing she wanted him, knowing she was free of Lynch, gave him such hope. He thought she would see him clearly as what he was- a man in love with her.

Now, for the first time, he was sorry they'd ever started this affair. He was sorry he'd given this a chance. He was sorry he'd even fallen so hard for her in the first place. Prentiss was so damn right...except instead of just breaking her heart, his was broken, too. Either way, there was no choice but to end it. He couldn't do this anymore.

He wasn't going to worry about Penelope. She was probably out with _Winston_, right now, getting her broken heart mended. He'd heal with Jim Beam tonight, and Johnny Walker tomorrow...Jack Daniels the next night.

He heard a knock on the door. Grumbling, he stood up to answer it.

"Hi, Hot Stuff, can I come in?"

* * *

Penelope's heart was racing. She hoped she wasn't completely wrong. She hoped she was doing the right thing. Any which way, it didn't matter. She needed answers from him, and she was going to get them.

He stepped aside and she walked in. She started slipping her shoes off.

"I thought you had a date," he snapped at her.

"No," she snapped back. "I said I was thinking about it."

He scoffed and started walking downstairs to his bar area. He poured himself some dark brown liquid and shot down about half of it, before answering her, "He's probably a _real_ peach. Just your type. What's there to think about, sugar?"

He looked calm on the surface, but she knew that was deceptive. It was almost frightening. He had intensity like a caged tiger, and hinges were just about to break on the door.

"Lots of things," she said quickly. "I hoped you could answer some of them for me."

He took another sip, then smirked at her. "I'll try."

He was mocking her with his look, one eyebrow arched. He looked like the devil may care player he used to be when she first met him. So different than the Derek she'd known over the past few weeks, the one that gave her hope again. She was taking a chance on him, and-

"Hurry it up, P." He smirked again giving her a nasty leer. "_You_ may not have plans, but I don't have all night."

The way he said it begged for the question, _Who do you have plans with?_, but she tossed it aside and said her question instead.

"Do you want to be friends with me still?"

Her question obviously startled him. He finished the drink, then held up the decanter, gesturing towards it. "Want one?" As she shook her head no, he poured himself another one. "Suit yourself."

"Derek-"

"Me wanting to be friends with you is not in question," he replied, heading towards the futon they'd made love on so many times. He took a seat and crossed his ankle on his knee. He gestured for her to sit, but she shook her head.

"I will always consider you my friend, Penelope," he said quickly. A lot of the agitation he seemed to have washed away, the emotion of their friendship rising to the forefront. He paused, taking a deep breath, "I will always protect you with my life. I promised you that, and I swear on my word."

"That's good. I don't want to lose you-"

"P," he interruped, sighing wearily. Now he simply looked exhausted, worn out, so unlike his usual energetic self. "Tonight is not the night for this. If you have other questions, say them. I'm tired and need to go to bed."

"Do you think sex with me is good?"

"No." He put the glass down and laughed, but it was bitter. "To say _good_ would be a lie. Sex with you is fantastic. The best I've ever had, God help me."

"Do you want to continue having sex with me?"

His lips tightened. "Well, after saying that, I'd be a fucking fool if I said no, now, wouldn't I?"

"Good. I'd like to-"

"But I am not sharing you," he snarled, interrupting her. "No way in hell."

Penelope's heart started to sing again. That possessiveness sealed it. She felt the same way; she'd kill, non-violent pacifist that she was, before she'd let another woman near him. She knew it for sure now. He loved her. That response sealed it for her.

"That's great," she said, fighting back a smile and failing miserably. "I wouldn't want to share you, either, cupcake."

He looked at her with some confusion in his face. "P, wha-"

"One more question, Derek," she interrupted. She sat next to him now and looked at him with a soft smile, her heart in her eyes. "Do you want to have a relationship with me where we say _I love you_, and really mean it?"

As understanding dawned, Derek began to smiled back at her. "Sweetheart, I already mean it when I say it to you."

"As a friend, yes-"

This time, he interrupted, putting his hand on her cheek. "No, baby. Like a man in love. Every single time."

Her eyes teared as she realized the implications of that statement. "Oh, Derek."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Penelope, I can't ever be _just friends_ with you. You have never been _just a friend_. You've always been so much more."

"I love you," she whispered, touching his chest lightly.

He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss. "I love you, too. So much."

She snuggled into his chest, into the familiar spot now that had her name on it. "Derek, do you still have plans, or can you sneak me into your calendar?"

"Hmmm...let me see," he said, smiling. "I think I can pencil you in. How about everyday, for the rest of my life?"

She smiled, then climbed over him, straddling his lap. "Sounds like a perfect plan," she said as she lowered her mouth to his and melted into joyful oblivion.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15- Epilogue**

_AN:Thanks for coming along on the ride with this story! Next one will be coming soon to an inbox near you!..._

_AN2: As for this... I was in a mood again when I wrote it... Rather graphic, for those with tender sensibilities.. Proceed with caution..._

Derek heard the knocking on the front door and wondered who it was. He was expecting Penelope to be home any minute, but she'd just come in. After all, it was her house, too, now. Well, at least it would be in a couple of months when they tied the knot.

He opened the door and there she stood, a definite fantasy come to life.

"Hello, handsome."

He swallowed hard as he watched his fiancee enter the house, wearing a trench coat, a smile, and red high heels with little bows on the toes. He had a feeling what was under that coat, or better yet, what was missing from under that coat.

He followed her like a lost puppy as she descended the stairs. His heart was beating harder, he was breathing faster, and good God, he was even beginning to _salivate_.

To say he was anticipating this would be a massive understatement.

She did a quick lean and spin around the pole that she now loved as much as he did- she'd been surprised at all the fun things you could do with poles in basements! She made her way over to the futon where he was sitting, reached into her pocket to take out a note, then unbelted and dropped the coat. Like he'd thought earlier, she was wearing nothing but her birthday suit underneath.

She kissed the little piece of paper she was carrying, and tossed it to him. "Just like that, right?"

He grinned at her. "You know it, momma."

She grinned back at him, as she reached for a pillow next to him on the futon and put it on the ground.

**For More of this part of the story...Please see my profile!**


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